4 Aspects
by Charon13
Summary: A story about the elements that define you


A lonely knight sat next to a fireplace in the rain. The rain was not powerful enough to put out the fire but it was enough to get the knight wet.

The rain made her feel calm. Like an old friend, she knew she could always rely on it, it helped her reach everything she set her mind to achieve.

The fire from the fireplace warmed her body that was exhausted from this day s battles. Fire made her strong, giving her the power to break through the thickest armor.

She felt the earth underneath her. Strong, powerful. It gave her stability, confidence. And it protected her if she needed it.

She felt the wind around her, calm and unpredictable. It could make her faster, helped her to strike quicker than her opponents.

The mystique in her village once told her she had an aura of hate around her and would bring death, ruin and devastation to the village. But she did not care. She was left there as an orphan and she never felt like she belonged. All the other kids made fun of her skin, made fun of her way of speaking. But she did not remember anything before the village, did not know how she got there or where she came from.

She always felt like she had a special connection with the elements. They were her friends, keeping her company. But the relationship never manifested in any form. Until that day. She was in the town market. She was hungry. Stealing one bread, no one would notice. But they did notice. They caught her, the loaf still in her hands.

And as a punishment, they wanted to scar her. The baker took her to the oven, wanted to burn her skin with its heat to teach her a lesson. But she wasn t scared. She knew the fire would not hurt her. Instead it gave her strength, enough that a young girl was able to lift the baker up. And it was him being scarred by the fire. Not that it mattered. The burns were so severe that he died on the spot. She still remembered the smell of burning flesh. It made her smile. Hate, death, ruin and devastation.

The cry of an owl interrupted her trip on memory lane. She was hungry and although owl meat wasn t particularly nice, she knew she had to eat. She grabbed her spear leaning by the tree and summoned the powers of the wind. Before the owl realized what was going on, the spear hat bored through its heart. She then removed its feathers and she held it over the fire to cook. The day had been more exhausting then she anticipated.

She sunk back into her memories, to the burning baker. It was the first time in her life that she felt powerful. The other villagers moved to the market square. She knew the look they gave her, a mixture of disgust and anger but there was something in their eyes that was not there before. It was fear. They feared the little girl. And she enjoyed it. Hate, death, ruin and devastation.

She would give them something to fear. She would let her hate flow. She would show them ruin, she would teach them devastation, she would bring death. She felt the other elements around her. And she channeled them all into a dark revulsion. It did not kill them, but everyone around the town place got barely away with their lives hanging by a threat.

The smell of burning meat brought her back into the present. The owl was ready for consumption. It did not taste good, but it gave her enough strength to fight another day.

She left the village that day. There was nothing there for her. At the exit she met a shadowed figure. I was waiting for you, my child .

Hate, death, ruin and devastation. They were a part of hers and she would always be able to count on them. The 4 elements, her friends. And this shadowy figure accepted her, praised the way she was. And it taught her to fight, to become a knight and spreading fear in her enemies. And the more she trained, the more powerful she became. The more enemies she slaughtered, the more she understood her purpose. The mystique was wrong. She would not bring havoc to the village; she would bring it to the world of Indines.

The fire was dancing, as if it was sharing her happy thoughts. The rain washed the blood of her enemies of her skin. The earth beneath gave her hold, after a day of battles and in the wind she heard the cries of her victims. It had been a successful dayt. But her work was far from done. Hate, death, ruin and devastation had to spread. And Anath would make sure they would. 


End file.
